Daughter of a Legend
by Dreamfantasy13
Summary: Serine, the daughter of Vidanric and Mel No Beauty in this story is anything but a hero. Forced to take the crown and save her country in the middle of a war, Serine must become the one thing she despises: a ruler. Please R&R!
1. The Princess of Remalna

**Disclaimer: I am not Sherwood Smith. I do not own any of the characters appearing in this work, except perhaps Serine. I do not even own Danric. (Sniff) But I love him…**

**Author's Note: In this story, "Beauty" never happened. Serine and Bran are the children of Vidanric and Meliara, and Elestra and Alaerec do not exist. Okay? Then we're good. Hope you enjoy! Please R&R!**

My parents, the brave and heroic Meliara and the cleverly valiant Vidanric of Remalna had absolutely no idea what to do with me. They had risked everything for Remalna, which is why they are the most celebrated rulers (AKA: the people _love _them) that Remalna has ever seen. I'm their daughter. I don't like swords, and I don't like horses, and I don't like the outdoors, or anything that involves heroics at all. In short, I'm a failure.

My older brother, Bran, is everything that this country could want in a ruler. He's smart, brave, and loves the people. Or, should I say, he loved the people. Bran, at the age of nineteen, went, as an ambassador, to a far-away country, and has never returned. Every now and again, we receive a letter, but that's about it. The fist letter stated that he had fallen in love, and was married, with a child on the way.

Let me give you a general idea of my life, before that fated letter.

As the younger daughter of King Vidanric and Queen Meliara of Remalna, I had been allowed to do pretty much what I wished. After all, my older brother was going to be an excellent ruler. You could tell, simply by the way he handled problems in his life. He had wonderful people skills, which was part of the reason that he had been the sole ambassador, an uncommon thing in that day.

From when I was born, until my fifteenth birthday, I was allowed to do whatever I wanted. When I was small, this had included roaming the hills with my circle of close friends: Lady Melody, Lady Aislinna (my cousin), Lady Talysa, and Lady Nicola.

I can't say exactly what made me stop wandering, although I strongly suspect that it was because of the Death Storm, the deadliest storm that Remalna had ever seen. A freak storm, unpredicted, unknown, and it had never returned. Some say that the wizards in the south conjured it.

The five of us had been roaming, as usual. I think that I'd have to say that we were about seven. Melody and Talysa had grown weary, and decided to return early. Nicola had decided to go with, and Aislinna and I had remained, exploring. When the storm started up, we got separated. Aislinna managed to find her way to a nearby fief, but I was trapped outside without food or shelter of any kind, alone in the dark.

After that, I rather lost my taste for exploration of any kind. I became rather timid, and withdrew to my rooms for the most part, except for an occasional meeting with Aislinna, Nicola, Talysa, and Melody.

As we grew older, they all became interested in fashion, clothes, and, most importantly, boys. They liked talking about various flirts, and felt that the more social activities that they attended, the more important they were. I lost interest, perhaps because I still found the male race an annoyance. I couldn't fathom the need for secretive meetings, holding hands, or anything else that connected me to boys.

After that, I retreated even farther into my rooms. I took up embroidery, which I found that I thoroughly loved. It gave me a sense of peace, and that I didn't have to do anything that I didn't wish to.

I often felt lonely, but any time I went out in public, I was stared at, and people went silent around me. I simply didn't fit in. Everyone else was enjoying flirting, picnics, horseracing, and such forth. I left my rooms less and less often.

There were whole months were even my family didn't see me. I believe that they forgot about me. The only person I saw with any regularity was my maid, Lillith, who brought me my meals. I never complained; I simply embroidered. My rooms, were, by now, covered in intricate embroideries, and every now and again I would send one to an acquaintance. After awhile, I decided that I needed to find another art to pursue.

Large oil paintings had become the fashion, so I immersed myself in the painting and learning of such an art. My walls, if crowded before, grew even more hectic. I left my rooms, briefly, to request the use of a storage room to keep my many extra paintings and tapestries in. It was then that my parents remembered me, I suppose, and decided that perhaps I should get out more.

After the first week of 'getting out more' I withdrew to my rooms once again. I had grown too far apart from my peers, and I no longer fit in. The thought of being the center of attention terrified me, and I withdrew, once again, to my life of solitude. My parents didn't object—they were busy preparing my brother, Bran, for ruling Remalna.

In the fall, half a year before my fifteenth birthday, Bran left Remalna, an ambassador to Hilina, a country, while across the sea from us, was quite powerful. He was probably chosen for his aforementioned people skills. Remalna had been having a bit of trouble with Hilina, and Mother and Father hoped that Bran could smooth things over. By sending their heir, alone, they were entrusting Hilina with his safety. It was hard to start a war after that.

You may be surprised that I knew these things. Well, just because I didn't get out much, didn't mean that I didn't know what went on in Remalna.

I hadn't liked seeing Bran leave. Something told me that I wouldn't see him again for a long, long time.

The day that Bran left Remalna was the first day in several years that I appeared before the public. I stood with Mother and Father, and waved good-bye. A single tear rolled down my cheek.

On parting, I had given Bran my best work. It was a tiny oil painting depicting the Nenrik Brook, where Bran and I had played, in my adventurous days. The brook was bubbling, and you could see our fallen log, which had served as a bridge. The log was huge and covered in moss, with wildflowers growing out of it's decaying body. In the background was a colorwood forest, and the Remalnan Mountains.

Hilina agreed with our treaty, and sent us a Letter of Peace, just days before my fifteenth birthday. Days after, we received another letter—from Bran.

_Dearest Mother, Father, and Sister, _(The letter read, in Bran's scrawl)

_Hilina has, as you probably know by now, agreed to our Treaty. The rulers of Hilina, King Bilve and Queen Leila, are quite nice. Their daughter, Crown Princess Sylvia, is even nicer. _(At this, I received my first warning signal)

_I have been quite content at the Court in Hilina. I have been treated well, and have enjoyed my stay immensely. I miss you all, of course, and regret that I am not back for Serine's fifteenth birthday. _(I smiled slightly; surprised that he had even remembered when my birthday was)

_Here is where I must tell you what I suppose will be bad news. Although I love Remalna, I have found a home in Hilina. And, although I suppose I will never, ever, truly love Hilina as I do Remalna, Hilina holds something that Remalna never will._

_The love of my life. Princess Sylvia, the only daughter of King Bilve and Queen Leila, and I have been married, less than a week ago. I am truly sorry that none of you could be here on our wedding day, for we feared that you would forbid the marriage. _

_I know you will beg me to return, but please do not. I am happy hear in Hilina, and, although I will always miss Remalna, I cannot leave. I now have duties here, as Princess Sylvia and I will one day occupy the throne._

_I hope that this will strengthen our ties with Hilina effectively. I am sorry. I will miss you. You are all invited here, to the royal palace in Yerlay City (the capital of Hilina, Serine) whenever you wish. However, please do not come to beg me to return. I shall not, and it would only distress my beautiful bride._

_Please do not be angry: Serine can be your heir now. She'll do great. _(Here, I decided that my brother was officially loosing it. Correction: He had already lost it) _Give my love to the people._

_Love, _

Bran

I stared at the piece of parchment that had so totally changed my life

In one letter, Remalna's hopes fell. Instead of their brilliant and heroic Crown Prince, they were left with me: a Crown Princess who would rather embroider than look at a book, let alone pick up a dreaded sword.

I perfectly enjoyed my role as not having to do anything except for show up at occasional Court functions, so you can imagine my displeasure at receiving the news that I would one day rule a country.

So began the lessons, of figures, and letters, of so many languages that my head would pound, and I couldn't embroider. I had to speak millions of languages, learn more Court manners, and, in short, learn how to rule a country. However, I'm sure that I was failing miserably. My guess was confirmed when I was summoned into my parent's private quarters only a short year after my brother's first letter.

"Serine," my father had said, as I stepped into the room. His face was tired-looking, and there were telltale shadows under his penetrating gray eyes. His hair, as always, was pulled neatly back, but wisps of pale blonde hair fell out of place, another indication that he had not slept recently.

"We have received reports of your lessons," he nodded towards Sir Rodrern, the scholar in charge of my studies, whom I hadn't noticed. "We are more than slightly concerned about your apparent lack of interest in the affairs of this country."

My mother nodded. Queen Meliara of Remalna was praised throughout the country as the heroic countess who had sacrificed everything for her country. Her hair—sung about by bards for its glorious blend of colors, all colors from the famous Remalnan Colorwood Trees, was braided into its usual coronet, and her dark blue eyes looked tired. I wondered vaguely at the fatigue that my parents showed. Usually, they showed no hint of strain.

"We feel that we must endeavor to interest you in Remalna, for it is your future," my mother said, "For if you don't tend to it and care about it, Remalna will die."

I nodded wearily. I wished I were back in my room, with my embroidery. I was creating a masterpiece at the moment—it was truly gorgeous. Overlapping threads in different stitches created the picture of a flowering meadow, a great forest of colorwoods framed by the Remalnan Mountains.

"We have decided," my father said, "that perhaps it is the tutor that is in question." He gave a slight bow to Sir Rodrern, who looked cross. "We have chosen for you, instead, a different tutor."

He made a slight gesture with his hand at the door—which I recognized as the personal summons of the King, from my teachings—and the doors opened, to reveal a new figure.

The person came forward. He must have been around nineteen, or so, close to three years my senior. He was built rather like my father, tall and light-boned, possessing a kind of natural grace. He had the same pale yellow hair and assessing gray eyes, which seemed to know exactly what you were thinking.

I glanced at my father, mentally comparing. My father was slightly taller and the man appeared more muscular, I thought, eying him surreptitiously. Both faces were unreadable.

"Daughter," Father said, "may I present to you, Prince Vidanric, of Erethel?" He said, naming a country to the far east of Remalna.

"He has your face _and _your name?" I asked, unable to control myself. I flushed slightly at the stranger's bemused expression.

"Forgive my daughter," Father told the stranger. Someone who didn't know father would say that he was perfectly unreadable—but I knew better. He was quite annoyed at me.

The stranger bowed. "My parents, after having many sons and daughters, heard of the victorious Vidanric of Remalna. Since I was the youngest son, and it seemed unlikely that I would travel, they named me after him—in hopes that I may have his mind and courage."

Father smiled slightly. "Prince Vidanric, my daughter, Crown Princess Serine."

"Princess Serine?" He raised an eyebrow.

"Serine. As in, serenity. Only spelled differently." I said.

I could have sworn that Prince Vidanric was hiding a smile.

"Serenity, ay?"

I nodded.

Mother cleared her throat. "Serine, Prince Vidanric is to be your new tutor. It is our hope that he will inspire you to learn more and to take an interest in your country."

I nodded. "Yes, Mother," I responded, dully. I glanced at Sir Rodrern to gauge his reaction, but he appeared to have left already.

I smiled slightly, and then remembered that there was no cause for smiling. This new tutor could only mean more study time. Great. Just what I needed.

"A ball will be held in your honor," Mother informed Prince Vidanric, "You and Serine will lead."

Had I been anyone who was not Court-trained, I would have groaned aloud. Another _ball_? Grr….

Wonderful. I hated leading balls. I loved the dancing, but I hated being the center of attention. This meant that, in addition to my Flower Day Ball, which would occur in a couple of weeks, that I had to lead, and be the center of attention, in yet another ball.

At this moment, you may be thinking: she's nothing like her parents! Well, its true.

I hate being the center of attention, as well as stupid things like sword waving, galloping across the countryside on a horse, living in the outdoors, and spending hours of time in pursuit of intelligent studies. In conclusion, I dislike most of my famed parent's activities.

I love, as mentioned before, embroidery. Of any kind, whatsoever. I love to dance; it gives me a kind of freedom that I rarely feel. I also love to paint, or sketch. These are more artistic approaches to life.

You may be thinking: how could someone like this ever attempt to rule a country? Let me tell you: I have no idea. I think my parent's must have expected a miracle, or a late occurring gene, that would somehow appear and make me a different person. I sadly disappointed them.

I was left alone with Prince Vidanric.

He studied me. "Well, Your Highness, shall we begin?"

I shrugged. "Just so you know: I don't answer to 'Your Highness'. I answer to my name, as do everyone else I know. So whatever you've learned in Erethel, it's different here."

He smiled slightly, the first trace of emotion besides sarcasm that I had seen from him yet. "Serine, shall we begin?"

"Whenever you wish, Prince Vidanric."

"I don't answer to 'Prince anything'," he said. Was he mocking me? "I answer to my name."

However, as he soon learned, I refused to call him that. I had to think of something interesting, something that would annoy him…

We began re-capping everything that I had learned under Sir Rodrern. It only took us about two days. I could read, write, do figures. That pretty much summed it up.

Oh, and I knew my parent's history. That was one area that I excelled at—according to my tutor. I didn't agree—after all, the legends of my famous parents' had been pounded into my head since I could talk.

I could recite everything that had occurred in the last, say, twenty years. Every decision, political or personal, I knew. As I was reciting this to my tutor, I had a sudden idea.

Shevraeth. What my mother had called my father when she hated his guts. An appropriate name, I thought, under the circumstances. I was also learning that, not only did I dislike the fact that I was being forced to learn, that I extremely disliked the man who was teaching me—he made me feel extremely stupid.

To my great distress, I was learning under his skill as a tutor. I was rapidly learning the entire history of Remalna—and it wasn't because Remalna was boring, oh, no. It was because I was _interested_.

Our lessons were interrupted several times. My parents loved to come in at the most obscure times, to see how we were doing. And, I suspect, to make sure that I wasn't doing anything inappropriate with the Prince of Erethel, who, need I add, was only a couple years older than me, and relatively handsome.

They should have known me better. Although everyone my age at Court had several flirts, or was twoing, I had no desire to flirt at all. I could personally see no need for it—it was just a waste of time.

"Why don't you go to more social engagements?" Shevraeth asked me, one day, as he talked about the formation of Remalna, during the Great Wars.

I shrugged, slightly. "Never really saw the need to, I guess," I answered, "I used to go all the time—there was a circle of girls that I was quite good friends with."

"Then?" Shevraeth prompted.

I smiled slightly. "And then we all grew up. They got interested in boys, and flirting, and the latest fashions. That, I suppose, was when I retreated to my rooms." I paused. "I didn't leave. I couldn't, I felt so out-of-place. I didn't like flirting, and I still don't. I don't fuss over what I wear, because I don't really care. We were just too different, I guess. So I got caught up in my embroidery. It became my life."

We sat in silence.

"Why didn't you ever educate yourself about your country?" Shevraeth asked, still, I suppose, slightly puzzled about my ignorance.

I sat, pondering the question. "I didn't want to rule," I said, finally. "And I didn't have to. My brother, Bran, was the heir. He was great—heroic and intelligent and he loved the people. Got along with everyone, too.

"Then he went, as an ambassador, to another country. We never saw him again. We received a letter that he'd fallen in love, was married, and his wife was going to have a child, and that he wasn't coming back. So I became the heir. I now had to learn to rule a country."

I smiled sadly, "Nobody had ever thought I would have to rule, so I was allowed to do what I wished, even if that happened to be embroidery, all day, every day."

He nodded, his face unreadable.

We continued about Remalna's formation during the Great Wars.



I dreaded the ball in honor of my new tutor. Nevertheless, it came all the same. I received a visit from my cousin, Aislinna. She was the daughter and heir of my mother's brother, Lord Branaric, and his wife, Nimiar. She would one day be the Countess of Tlanth, where my roots came from. She was the only one, my age, in Court, whom I still kept contact with.

"I hear you're going to open the ball tonight," Aislinna said, as she sipped her tea, delicately. My cousin was beautiful. She had dark brown hair, which curled delicately over her shoulders. Her skin was pale, and her dark blue eyes were gorgeous, sparkling without a hint of malice. Some said that she looked like Lady Tamara Chamadis used to look, in her prime. I suppose that she must have inherited the look, but there was one major difference: Aislinna possessed none of the nastiness that embodied Lady Tamara.

I nodded to Aislinna.

Aislinna smiled at me. "You're nervous," she said.

I nodded again, and sipped my tea. Tonight, I'd have some lemon tea, I decided. Lemon for the nerves.

"Why are you nervous?" Aislinna asked me. "You're leading a ball with a handsome man!"

I smiled slightly at her choice of words. "Remember, Linna, I dislike being the object of everyone's eyes. And I don't particularly care for my tutor."

Aislinna smiled slightly. "You know," she informed me, "if you got out more, people wouldn't stare at you so, when you do come into public view."

"What does that mean?" I demanded.

"You never leave your rooms, except to go to your lessons," Aislinna said, "Nobody ever sees you. You're the heir, Serine! They want to know you, to see what you're like!"

I barely managed not rolling my eyes. "They'd be quickly bored of me."

Aislinna grinned. Then her smile turned wicked. "How about this," she said, "come to the ball, ("I have to," I muttered.) and act differently. Be less inhibited! You always act as if you don't know what to do! You seriously need to go places more often. Feel the fresh air!"

I couldn't help it: I rolled my eyes. "Right."

"Please," Aislinna begged. "For me?" She pouted slightly.

"Linna, that might work on your suitors, but it doesn't affect me," I laughed.

"Please?"

I sighed. "I'll think about it."

"Okay," Aislinna grinned. "Now, what are you going to wear tonight?"


	2. A MuchNeeded Miracle

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters or the world of Remalna. I am just here attempting to entertain you all…. if there's anybody there…**

**Author's Note: Yay! I got some reviews. Okay, just so everyone knows, I'm debating on changing Prince Vidanric's nickname from Shevraeth to Erethel (Courtesy of FelSong, thanx!) Or possibly, another fief in Erethel. So if you review, tell which you'd prefer….So, yeah… hope that works out. And, if you have any ideas about twisting the plot… do tell… read on!**

Aislinna fussed over my dress for hours, tweaking things here, and adjusting things there, before I finally shooed her out. "You need to get dressed," I informed her.

"See you," Aislinna said, as she left.

I glared at my ball gown. Ball gowns were another thing that I disliked. They were huge, and hard to walk in, let alone dance in. Plus, they were heavy, and often low-cut and tight. They were covered in gems, and to be frank, I simply disliked them.

I never wore anything that 'poofed'. Unfashionable as I was, I wore slim gowns, that didn't accentuate my slender frame, but simply were easy to walk and sit for long periods of time in. They were rarely gem-encrusted, or even embroidered.

Lillith, my maid, helped me into my gown. It was pure white, at first glance, but it had the iridescent quality of an opal, and it threw off greens, pinks, blues, and purples. The thing was tight, hugging my waist, but, thankfully, was modestly cut with a square neck. Opals glimmered at my throat, in my ears, and one on my finger.

I glanced in the mirror. I wished that my hair were the color of Mother's— the gorgeous red strands, naturally streaked with blondes and browns. My hair was a sandy blonde color, which, tonight, fell in waves to past my hips. An opal, suspended on a silver chain, hung on my forehead.

I studied myself. Looking at me, could anyone tell that I really hated balls? Something about my eyes, a pure green, and the way my lips were positioned gave it away. I repositioned my face, and walked to my doom. AKA: the ball.

Shevraeth was waiting for me outside the doors to the grand staircase. He looked splendid in a dark colors, edged with gold. Nervousness was apparent on his face. I smirked. Unreadable, huh?

I could hear the music begin, a fanfare, as the doors to the staircase opened slowly. Slightly unsure, I took Shevraeth's offered arm, and we entered the room. Just as Aislinna had predicted, all eyes were on me. Not on my new tutor, though I had no doubt that many females would soon begin to look at him, but on me. Green eyes, blue eyes, brown eyes, smiling eyes, angry eyes, they all had one thing in common: they were staring at me.

I fought the urge to hide my face, or to run from the room. I managed to get down the staircase without an incident, and then, to my great annoyance, my tutor looked straight at me, and said, "May I have the first dance?"

Of course, there was no polite way to say no. So I dipped a perfect curtsy and replied, "Of course, your Highness," as was proper to one of royal birth.

I did love dancing. The music made me feel free, as I twirled under the blue and silver decorations. Blue and silver had been used for two reasons: they were the colors of my personal standard, as well as the colors of Erethel. Honoring me, and my new tutor.

The music went on and on, and I felt the thrill of simply dancing. After the ceremonial first dance, the banquet began. Mother and Father stood up.

After all the nattering about 'wonderful to see you all' and 'honored you came', they finally got to the point, "And, without further ado, we'd like to present Prince Vidanric of Erethel," my mother said.

Most of the female heads in the room turned to look at the figure seated next to me. Shevraeth appeared unconcerned, but the corners of his mouth deepened slightly, in what I now realized was amusement, as if he was used to the attention. After all, he was a prince.

After the banquet, the dancing continued.

Aislinna quickly found her way to my side. Flanking her, were three ladies that I vaguely recognized.

Aislinna smiled at me, "Serine, I think you'll remember Lady Melody, Lady Talysa, and Lady Nicola. Ladies, Princess Serine."

They were just as I remembered them, only older and more beautiful. Lady Melody, the heir to the Countess of Deliss, had warm chocolaty brown eyes and hair so dark that it appeared black. She had a pale complexion, and her entire face bespoke a good nature.

Lady Nicola, the heir to the Count of Merle, had the same unruly dark red curls that she had possessed nearly ten years ago. Her face was carefree and smiling, and her deep gray eyes twinkled with suppressed laughter.

The one the most like me, I suppose, was Lady Talysa. Her parents had died years ago, leaving her the Duchess of Camdry. She was soft-spoken and shy, but with an elegant bearing. Her long blonde hair was a similar shade to mine, although hers was in an elegant knot, and her blue eyes were smiling.

The moment of awkwardness quickly passed, and Lady Nicola took the lead. She quickly maintained that there was no need to say titles—after all, we were old friends. "Serine," Nicola said, in her energetic way, "what have you been up to lately?"

I gave a faint smile. "Learning how to govern a country."

Talysa gave me a smile, which said quite clearly that she knew what I meant. "My parents didn't think to educate me about Camdry, or how to govern," she said, softly, "so now, I'm trying to make up for lost time. My head pounds more often than not."

I nodded.

I soon learned that Nicola spent her days horseracing. Why she loved those animals so much was quite beyond me. Melody, with her kind eyes, enjoyed spending time with her huge amount of friends—and flirts. Aislinna maintained that no one wanted to know what _she _did for fun, and we didn't press the subject.

"I have an idea," Nicola said, gaily, "I think that we should meet tomorrow, for a private tea, in my chambers."

We agreed. Talysa and I didn't agree, however, with her next idea. "We should all try what the other's like," Nicola grinned, "On my day, we'll go horseracing, on Mel's, we'll have a huge party, and flirt a lot (Here, Melody gave Nicola a punch in the arm. A ladylike punch, of course) on Taly's day, we'll go to the library and such forth, on Linna's day, we'll do you-don't-want-to-know, and on Serine's day, we'll do painting."

Talysa and I groaned in unison.

"Pretty please?" Nicola begged. "Please?"

"Hmmm…" I said, "I know! Only if you promise to dance with every male that we point out for you to dance with." Talysa nodded in agreement, her eyes sparkling with suppressed laughter.

"No way!" Nicola yelped. "Never!"

Talysa shrugged delicately, "Well, Serine, perhaps we can find something else to occupy ourselves…?"

I nodded politely and Talysa and I begin to move away. Aislinna and Melody began whispering. Nicola looked put out. "Fine," she said, "I'll do it."

"Good," Talysa said.

We spent the rest of a very amusing evening ordering Nicola to dance with the men of our choices. Needless to say, most of them were not very attractive.

The only one she really liked was my tutor. The esteemed Prince Vidanric of Erethel. My tutor.

Nicola came back from the dance with a flushing face and a wide grin. "That was…" she fanned herself briskly, as she searched for the right word, "exhilarating!"

Aislinna raised an eyebrow. "Exhilarating?"

Nicola smiled.

Aislinna looked questioningly at her, and then turned to me. "Well, I'm off," she said, "I have to check out this exhilarating tutor of yours."

Talysa and I watched wordlessly as Aislinna walked up to Erethel. Within a minute, they were dancing.

"No fair!" Melody cried, "I want a turn!"

Talysa and I spent the rest of the evening watching our three friends attempt to make Shevraeth dance with them more than the rest. They all came back at the end of the ball, smiling insufferably. "He's going to ask me to the last dance," Melody said, grinning.

"He's asking _me_," Aislinna corrected.

Nicola simply smiled smugly.

However, when Shevraeth came our way, it was Talysa he turned to. "May I have this last dance?" He asked, bowing.

Talysa smiled shyly. "Of course," and then she was off—swept off by my tutor. My tutor!

Nicola, Aislinna, and Melody gaped. "But he was asking me!" They all whined, in unison.

I couldn't hide a smile. "I think he made the best choice." I said, "By asking Talysa, he's ensuring not only that he has the prettiest girl for the last dance, (I ignored their shocked expressions) but also that you don't claw out whoever's eyes that he chooses to dance with. If it had been one of you three, the other two would have spent all night with your heads together, plotting and planning. Since he chose Talysa, you will all watch jealously, but since she's your friend, and she's so shy, you won't do anything."

They gaped at me.

Aislinna, who knew me best, recovered first. "And if it had been you, Serine?"

I smiled. "Then he would have truly had the prettiest girl for the last dance," I said, completely serious.

Talysa returned with Shevraeth, to find us all laughing. "What is it?"

"Prettiest girl…!" Aislinna gasped out.

And we all started laughing again.



The next day during my studies, Shevraeth seemed to be biding his time for something. The entire lesson, he was on the verge of saying something, but held it back. He'd open his mouth, and close it. And open it, and close it. It reminded me of a fish. (A/N: Hee, hee)

"What is it?" I said finally.

Shevraeth glanced at me. "What?"

"You've been trying to say something all day. What is it?"

The corners of his mouth deepened as he attempted to hide a smile. Attempted was certainly the right word, in this case. "You have me all figured out, Lady Serine." I ignored his use of the improper title.

"Lord Shevraeth?" I prompted.

The corners of his mouth deepened again.

"When—when…" he trailed off. "When do you think I should ask Lady Talysa to go on a walk with me?"

I thought for a moment. This was a surprise, yes, but not that much of one, considering he could have had anyone to dance with last night, and he chose Talysa.

"I have tea with her this afternoon," I said, "I'm leaving earlier than usual. I could ask her then."

"Would you?" If he had been a normal person, with normal facial expressions, I would have said that his tone was pleading. As it was…

I laughed aloud. The absurdity of the situation had finally struck me. My tutor was asking me about how to, well, _flirt _with one of my friends.

"How about if I invite her to a picnic with me?" I suggested, "And mention that maybe I'd invite someone else. Not one of the group, but someone else. Then you can come, and I can go, and then wander off a bit, looking for flowers or something, and come back after an hour or so, to make sure that you're getting along?"

"Would you?" Again, his face and tone sounded as if he were enquiring about the weather.

"Sure," I said, "but only if I am excused early from studies once in awhile."

He glanced at me, as if he knew that the main reason I was agreeing was to get out of lessons.

In the end, I was allowed to leave lessons early. I had a tea party to go to, and, I grinned evilly (hee, hee) matchmaking to do.

This might seem odd to you, a stranger, reading these documents, I suppose. You may wonder, why would she care? All she cares about is art! If you're thinking this, than you are dreadfully wrong.

What I said was that I would rather embroider or paint, than do anything else. Especially if that 'anything else' means running a country. I mean, people are expecting one person to rule over them, and know what do? We aren't all that gifted!

Tea was lovely. Nicola took center-stage, as Nicola always does, and decided that we should begin our "days in each other's shoes" tomorrow. Naturally, we were starting with her. Horseracing and waving swords _would _be the death of me. Maybe there was a way to retreat?

Melody came to the rescue. "I'm afraid that I can't, Nicola," she said, "I will be returning to my estates tomorrow—I have some things to take care of."

"Of course," Nicola said, "Of course we shall postpone it."

Melody excused herself only a couple minutes later—she had to pack. Nicola followed after her because she wanted to catch a horserace before supper, and Aislinna soon developed a mysterious headache and left—to do you-don't-want-to-know-what.

That left Talysa and me.

"Would you like to go on a picnic tomorrow?" I asked, "Just you and me, and maybe another friend?"

"Nicola or Aislinna?"

"No… I wasn't really thinking of them," I replied.

Talysa thought for the barest of moments. "I'd love to," she said.

As she got up to leave, about an hour later, something else occurred to me.

"Oh, and Talysa?"

"Yes?" She asked, turning from the doorway.

"Wear something pretty," I said.

Talysa raised an eyebrow. "Why—

"Don't ask." I grinned, "I'm not telling.

Although Talysa put on a confused face, I had the feeling that she knew exactly what I was up to.



I informed Shevraeth the next day at our lesson that we would be going on a picnic with Talysa. By we, of course, I meant "him". Lessons were ended earlier than usual, and although he said nothing as he strolled from the room, I contented myself with imagining him rushing off muttering, 'whatever-was-he-going-to-wear-?'

I remained at the picnic for about three minutes total. After making sure that they were getting along, I left. I decided to use the time to embroider.

Talysa and Shevraeth met every day for picnicking. I was rather bemused. They were young, and in love. Or whatever the court scribes liked to say.

I was progressing in my lessons. I could read and write (fluently) three different languages, as well as work figures. I knew the history of Remalna, as well as all of our neighboring countries. This, I suppose was wonderful.

Unfortunately for my parents, my country, and my tutor, when we began lessons on how to actually rule a country, I failed miserably. I couldn't understand how taxes worked, let alone the appropriate times to level one. I disliked learning about foreign delegates, other countries, and how to rule over Court. There was no getting around it: I simply did not want to rule.

I had, of course, said this from the beginning. I think that my parents were still hoping for a miracle. A desperately needed miracle.

They spent months trying to teach me how to rule. Or, to be honest, trying to get me interested in ruling. It might seem spoiled and priggish, but I didn't want to rule.

I didn't want to spend the rest of my life deciding the lives of thousands of people. I just didn't want that responsibility. I would be in charge of everyone's life: from the smallest scullery maid or stable boy, to the noblest courtier. I didn't want that.

After that, I think that my parents decided that I simply needed to marry the right kind of Prince.

After several months of searching, my parents decided to leave Remalna for a few months. They were going to go 'Prince-hunting', as well as get out of Remalna, to give me a taste of ruling, and to simply get away.

I managed for the first week on my own.



Disaster struck.

One thing after another, impossibly annoying things that seemed to test my abilities of ruling. First, a tree fell.

A tree fell. That doesn't sound disastrous, does it? Let me fill you in:

In Remalna, the Great Northern Road is the most traveled road. The Great Northern Road extends from Southern Remalna, to the North. Anybody who is traveling, or shipping products by wagonload uses the Great Northern Road. You might go so far to say that it's the center of our country's economy.

Of course, the tree (wide enough that five people holding hands couldn't reach around) simply _had _to fall in the busiest part of the Great Northern Road—directly before Celeth, business city of Remalna. It took days and days of hard work to move the tree.

I had to personally oversee the removal of the tree. During the eleven-day course, I received over a thousand complaints.

Next, a huge storm disrupted harvest in Eastern Remalna. The farmers yelled for help, and the petitioners didn't stop coming for over a month after the problem was resolved.

Finally, an assassin managed to worm its way into the palace. Dressed as a stable boy, assigned to take away my horse (after I had returned from visiting the farmers) attempted to knife me in the back.

And was very nearly successful.


End file.
